Dead air came out
as she went in
Showing posts with label Relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Relationships. Show all posts
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Look at All Those Roses
LOU
Here were jealous of the rose house
–
One of those
conflicts between two silent mood
Return from a
week-end
Lou’s smart
little monkey face
she was
Just opening her
mouth to risk one further remark
“Oh my goodness”
she said,
she had a
plan read
Why
should a house
wait?
“Leave
your wife here,”
she said. “Then she can have tea.”
- her idea of
love was
adhesiveness . .
. . Knowing
aring out
with unhappy eyes.
A girl of about thirteen lay, flat
as a board
Flat horizons
Lying
their
She’s
lying down because
Men
will suffer a certain
look in animal’s eyes, but not in women’s
eyes
he
will lose his way.
When she is not working she rides
home.”
“I
never eat tea, thank you,”
He put his hand on
You’re
well out of that, my girl,
From "Dear John" series.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Reduced
This must have been the second chapter I worked on.
Looking on the dates when I made these work, I think I was either suffering from insomnia or just manically working non-stop day and night.
When I was at MacDowell, I typically worked in the printmaking studio during the day, and worked on installation in another large studio in the afternoon and evening. All these book pages were done at night. My cottage where I slept was quite far from my studio. I had to walk through the woods. There was no lights outside except the lights from other fellow residents' studios. I carried a flashlight to walk through the woods. There was a bed in the studio, so sometimes I just slept there.
Sixteen years later, I'm looking back at these words I chose. At the time of making, I really wasn't reading any of these stories. As a matter of fact, I don't know any of these stories to this day. Yet, I feel like I know these stories so intimately, because I made them into my own. I had the most intimate and strangely engaging experience with this book without actually reading the stories. When I opened each page, certain words just jumped at me, and those were the words I "saved."
I didn't have to think. These words simply began to float on the page, and I painted around these words. I almost could't keep up with "their" speed. It sounds bizarre, I know, but I felt a close kinship with the author, Elizabeth Bowen who was an Anglo-Irish novelist.
Maybe I lost words of my own. Maybe I had to borrow someone else's.
"Reduced" from Dear John
Looking on the dates when I made these work, I think I was either suffering from insomnia or just manically working non-stop day and night.
When I was at MacDowell, I typically worked in the printmaking studio during the day, and worked on installation in another large studio in the afternoon and evening. All these book pages were done at night. My cottage where I slept was quite far from my studio. I had to walk through the woods. There was no lights outside except the lights from other fellow residents' studios. I carried a flashlight to walk through the woods. There was a bed in the studio, so sometimes I just slept there.
Sixteen years later, I'm looking back at these words I chose. At the time of making, I really wasn't reading any of these stories. As a matter of fact, I don't know any of these stories to this day. Yet, I feel like I know these stories so intimately, because I made them into my own. I had the most intimate and strangely engaging experience with this book without actually reading the stories. When I opened each page, certain words just jumped at me, and those were the words I "saved."
I didn't have to think. These words simply began to float on the page, and I painted around these words. I almost could't keep up with "their" speed. It sounds bizarre, I know, but I felt a close kinship with the author, Elizabeth Bowen who was an Anglo-Irish novelist.
Maybe I lost words of my own. Maybe I had to borrow someone else's.
"Reduced" from Dear John
no chair invited
you.
A pretty September day
married
at
nineteen.
she was
twenty-seven or –eight
reputation of being the most unpopular
man
He was
careful, savagely careful, about
money and not careful
enough about seeing
anxious to “settle”
bought reduced coats and
shoes for the little
girls
the girls’ education would be a heavy
expense.
She was a shiftless woman.
The house looked dedicated to a
perpetual
January
The nicest woman like having
unattached men.
Around, “She
must be full of brains.”
after
one more forbidden
our
darling should leave
black
chill of
The schoolroom had a
faded sea-blue
wallpaper
“Have
you
stopped
painting?”
on
such a fine day
there would be
shadows.”
wash that blue off your paint-brush.”
The little girls
were alike,
part of her power
they prayed she might die
unwound the skipping-ropes
skipped
seventy-eight her toes
bounced
out of her head.
At last the rope caught her toe. “That’s
the record.”
‘Surely at last.
know “I’ve
“She was accused
of murder.”
So she disappeared,
hoping to be
forgotten
Children,
They sat stone-still, clasped hands.
she
will play games
My
own children are
strangers;
It’s
rude to look at each other
when mother
speaks!”
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Steam Tables (Table 3. Vapor, page 18)
differences
in flow pattern and general behavior,
having
significantly different physical characteristics.
= (eji + wij)
Aj, combustion
or evaporation,
eji = ½ (uj,i
+ ui,j), wij = ½ (uj,i
- ui,j).
the eji
and wij were constants and
so small that their products < 0
1 2
1 2
e1 Aj Aj =
ejk Ak Aj
Steam Tables (Table 3. Vapor, page 16)
INTRODUCTORY CONCEPT
CHAPTER I
If science like fluid
If passes through
If for every between
Love: A
be replaced by A & B
of
A1, A2, A3,
we must have
BODY
FORCES.
point
of the body
F is Likewise
a body originally
are apt to lead to a false conclusions.
l is multiply
connected,
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